The Zootopia Problem
by stevegallacci
Summary: What really happens when someone crosses over to Zootopia
1. Chapter 1

**With all the folks imagining themselves in Zootopia, how would that world deal with the influx of all that? Of course, what if 'Zootopia" was just an artifact, a fictional movie version of something else? Here's one what if.**

As a long time reader of science-fiction, and being a fairly level-headed old fart of a fellow, abruptly finding himself in the middle of a wheat field when he had been in his home only a moment before was more a simple puzzlement than a shocking catastrophe. Well, after the initial flinch at least.

What really had him worry was that his hands were no longer proper hands as he knew them. More like paws. And not proper dog paws as past pets would have them. More like three 'fingers' and a 'thumb', instead of four toes and a dewclaw. At least they were fairly dexterous.

Similarly, his feet, his shoes were gone and analogs of his new hands or paws where what he was standing on. He still had on trousers, approximately like what he had on before, though they included a loop for a tail, of course. A great bushy thing it was too. And his baggy T-shirt was still on, with plenty of pelt underneath.

He reached up to his face. A muzzle, with a wet nose and teeth and all that. Was he a dog, or wolf, or what? The impression was canid at least. And large erect ears.

Everything seemed to work, he smelt the soil and the not quite ripe crop around him, a hint of Diesel (?) in the distance, warm asphalt too. At the moment all he heard was the wind, a breeze blew all the stalks and around his furry head. The sun and sky seemed awfully bright and colors were washed out.

He headed for the unseen road, grateful that his feet seemed to take the ground without too much sensitivity. And there it was, a completely normal looking little country road. He looked back and was glad he hadn't made too much of a trail through the crop.

But where was he? Not flat enough for areas of the Midwest. He'd driven coast to coast in his youth and the relentless flatness was awfully distinctive. There was just a hint of undulation in the land, but nothing on the horizon, but the swells, that might be only a mile or two.

He mentally flipped a coin and followed the road, south, if the sun was any indication. Of course, he though, if he was in the northern hemisphere. There were plenty of wheat in Australia and South America too.

A broader question of 'where' came to mind. Was he in an alternate Earth with animals? Or a near future with uplifted animals? Or animal-looking aliens? It didn't take long to find out.

He saw a tuck coming up the road. Not a familiar model in real life, but.

"Zootopia?"

He'd seen the movie. He liked animation and the story and execution was exceptional. But he was no furry fan. He knew a few furry fans, but who was he to judge, as an old school trekkie back in the day and still a SF fan in his dotage.

But why would he get to or be put here?

He waved to the truck and it did stop for him, a little way off. There was a sheep (?) behind the wheel.

"Hello there. I seem to be lost in more ways than one." He was careful not to approach, not knowing what kind of social dynamic he might be in between different species.

The sheep leaned out of his side window, "You one of those 'other world' fellas?" At least he spoke English, though in an unfamiliar accent and cadence.

"If you mean I'm really, really not from around here, I guess so." And he noticed his own voice was an octave or two higher, but still his own accent. "Am I to guess there is a process for someone like me?"

"Don't know about 'process', but you'll need to go to the sheriff's office."

"And that's - ?" He pointed to and fro on the road.

The sheep laughed, "I'm headed into town and can take you. But in the back."

He wasn't going to argue, "Thanks." Then realized, "As I'm new to this, what am I now?"

The sheep looked him up and down, "A coyote." Without the final e.

The town was pretty much like any little middle of farm country town. There was a rail line and grain elevators off to the side, a couple of gas stations and some only sometimes paved side streets for a number of reasonable little houses. The sheep pulled in front of an all-purpose municipal building, courthouse, town hall and sheriff's office.

The sheep motioned him to go to the office door, seemingly reluctant to get out of the truck. Seeing that the only other folk around were also various 'prey' animals, he guessed he was something of a scary anomaly even without his otherworldly origin.

"Thanks for everything." and he gave the sheep a little salute as he drove off.

He could tell he was the center of wary attention as he headed for the door. When he entered, the desk clerk began to ask, "Can I hel- " and stopped in surprise, only then fully noticing what had entered. A couple deputies and other office workers also stopped in shock. A rabbit, another sheep, several kinds of deer or antelope.

"Hi." He waved and slumped down to be as unintimidating as he could, or at least guessed that's how he would be read. "I'm not from around here."

"You really an other worlder?" The rabbit approached, rather boldly compared to the rest of the staff. Like the rest, the accent and cadence was rather foreign, but still understandable. And he must sound awfully odd to them.

"If I'm understanding correctly, I guess I am." He held his paws out. "About an hour ago I was a very different species and in a very different part of a world, in the middle of a city of my species. Then, suddenly, I was in the middle of a wheat field like I am now." He gestured to himself. "A sheep gave me a ride into town."

One of the deputies began pawing through some papers, "We got a notice as to how to proceed ifin one of your kind showed up."

"The sheriff is out on patrol at the moment." Offered someone else.

"Here we go. Got the on-line notice." Announced someone else, pointing to a computer screen. "Did you really look like that?"

The image was of a human, a teen-ager, long lank hair, sort of a slacker fan look.

"Sort of, but a lot older and darker skinned. Different hair too."

"So, that's bare skin, not short hair?"

"Yes, other than a bit on the top of the head, and some on the face of older males, we're more or less hairless."

The collection of animals gave him a long look. "You don't look all that old?"

"Well, I don't know how old I appear to be here, but I was fairly aged back home, over sixty."

"That's not so old. Do your folk age out early?"

Then he saw the wall clock. Conventional twelve-hour interval but saw fourteen at noon. Then he realized they used base eight. "Oh, wait a minute." He held up a digit for a pause, "I'd actually be nearly one hundred in your number base."

"Then that is something, 'cause you don't look much more than thirty now."

He now knew that would be more like twenty-four, so the whatever that got him here also adjusted his age. Curiouser and curiouser.

"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you go step inside." One of the deputies gestured to the back of the office, and presumably, a cell. "Just to be sure."

"Not a problem." He was remarkably calm, considering some rather unfortunate history with small town law enforcement in his youth; DWB was still a thing in some places. Not exactly fatalistic, but he was so far out of his element at the moment that he was just going to ride it out.

Yes it was a cell, designed for rather big beasts by its features, so made it plenty roomy. He had a small audience, several of the animals wanted to ask questions of the Alien Creature, though he suspected no small part was simply seeing a coyote up close as much as his answers.

He was a little bit surprised that they seemed to be as well-connected, in the sense of the interwebs and related technology, as anything he'd been around back home. There were any number of smart 'phones and tablets on hand and some kinds of facebook or other social media sites going on.

In conversation with the crowd and their devices, he found out that hardly a day went by without some kind of Other Worlder of some sort popping up somewhere. Some were unconverted humans and obvious, others were like him, and officials were concerned that there might be uncounted more passing in the population.

After a while, the deputies had to stop the show, as there was a crowd of gawkers growing outside and they really didn't want to deal with any crowd control tromping thought the office.

A while later, the sheriff came back off rounds at about the same time as some 'government officials', MIB types. A rather imposing bear and wolf in bland suits and sunglasses, an odd contrast to the Javalina sheriff.

There was some paperwork, then, without a word, they took him into custody, handcuffs and leg shackles. A very ominous turn of events.

"I hope you guys don't do vivisection alien autopsies, eh?" He tried to joke. They didn't respond as they stuffed him into the back of a blacked out SUV.

Then a long silent drive in the dark. In his previous life, taking a little power nap when the opportunity allowed was a thing, and after it became clear that he was going to be in a black box for a while, he curled up as best he could for a snooze.

Surprisingly, he actually got some sleep, how much, he couldn't say, but he felt like it must have been a while. The sun was off to the west, a couple hours later than when they started. He was pulled from the SUV onto an airport tarmac, some smallish field, a couple light plane size hangers, the control tower just a small second floor extension to a small office structure.

There was a plane waiting, a modest size twin turboprop, a little feeder liner kind of thing in charter airlines markings. The seating inside reflected the range of animal sizes likely to be encountered, small to moderate sized seating fore and aft, with huge seating right at the wing for minimal balance issues.

The whole rear area had the windows blacked out and there was another passenger in back, a snow leopard, similarly shackled.

"Hi. Where are you from?" He asked as he was sat down and strapped into his seat.

"San Diego. And you?"

"Portland, Oregon. I used to be a sixty-two year old black man."

"Yeah? I'm told I'm still nineteen, but now I'm a female leopard." Though the cat's face was not easy to read, he could tell she was very unhappy with her current condition.

"Were you a furry? I'm trying to figure out how I got here, and I wasn't really a fan or anything, so don't get the connection."

"Don't know either, but yeah. Had a couple of fursonas, male and female." She was clearly ashamed of that now.

"Hey, don't sweat it. Back in my old D and D days, my main character was a female elf." True, he wasn't one now, but he never planned to be a coyote either. "Have any idea where we're going?"

"No, but they seem to have a process for us."

"No kidding. I may have been a temporary internet star, a bunch of locals facebooked me for a while."

"Weird how it's so close to our world."

And so it went for a while, speculations and small talk, some exchange of background. The snow leopard used to be a simple geeky furry fan, taking some community collage courses to build up some class time before plunging into collage proper.

He was a retired postal carrier. Did some volunteer work for one of the shelter. So very different, so what was the connection?

She suggested that they might have died; there was a body of fan fiction about Zootopia being a place for reincarnations. He wasn't keen on that, he was in good health and there was no transition between there and here. He would have expected something if he had died. Heart attacks were not sudden, though strokes could be, but he was in particularly good health for that kind of thing.

And she had to agree. She was not a jock, but she did a lot of bicycling and was in reasonably good shape. No transition for her either, just there then here.

Another thought came to mind, what of the folks back home. He didn't have any really connections to worry about. His family was dispersed and what friends he did have were mainly casual acquaintances. She was not so lucky when she realized she'd lost a close large family and several good friends behind.

He wished he could give her a hug or something to console her, but the MIBs were unmoved, and she wept off and on for the remained of the flight.

It wasn't all that long in total, maybe a couple hours. And as they exited, the sun was setting in the west. What little of the land that he could see was not encouraging. Wasteland, reminded him uncomfortably like parts of Montana, flat and desolate. No mountains on the horizon he could see for any hints though.

At this point, the MIBs took the cuffs and shackles off. "No where to go if you tried anything." One glumly advised.

Another blacked out SUV ride. Not terribly long.

"You okay now?" he asked.

"With everything else going on, I hadn't thought about everyone back - . Ya know." She was better now, and they sat beside each other. She was head and shoulders taller than him, and more robustly built, maybe. All that thick fur made it hard to tell. She had on a T-shirt and cargo pants, adapted for a tail as well.

He hadn't really looked at her for female features before, the feline face always struck him as feminine already, except maybe for some lions and such, but she did 't have a body that showed any human equivalent features.

"Can I ask, about your new girl parts?"

She gave a snort. "Yeah, I got to be a female, and you'd expect a sexy form like the fan art, but if you notice in the movie, the females have next to nothing up top." She made a bit of a bewildered face; "It took me a few to realize I'd lost my junk, with everything else going on. I didn't even think to check until I was referred to as a she."

"I wonder how to tell, you look like a snow leopard to me, must be some subtlety that we're missing." He then laughed. "I haven't yet checked to see if I've got a baculum, a penis bone."

"Oh, that's right, its what dogs got, right?"

"Many mammals, if I'm remembering right. Humans don't though."

Then they were at their destination. As he got out of the vehicle, his hackles went up. It was now fully night. There were an array of portable buildings, likely barracks, and off to the side, the foundations for more permanent structures. But it was the guard towers and searchlights. He didn't know what to expect, but a prison camp was not a hoped for answer.

There were, at least no obvious armed guards on the ground around them as they were ushered to one of the buildings.

It was an office, with little cubicles off to the side, which he discovered were for individual interviews. And as such, they were innocuous enough. Some personal background information, not much worse than an employment interview. Some extra health questions, and impressions of his conversion. At that, he could only mentioned the tactile effects of the fur and changed anatomy and the altered sensory repertoire.

Then the interviewer, a raccoon, asked, "Would you consider yourself a furry?"

"No. I'm more of an SF fan. But - " And he started, "Was it that movie?"

"Zootopia?"

"Yeah!"

"Don't know, but it does seem to be the one connection I've seen." The raccoon shrugged. "This isn't Zootopia, though. But we do have a major city that could sure fit the bill. Doesn't have the artificial climates, but sure matches many of the features."

"Some kind of connection? Interdimensional thing?" His SF mind was running though scenarios.

"Dunno. Though it's the kind of thing the techies talk about. You'll get a chance to speculate with them later."

"So. What is this place?"

"Containment center. The authorities don't know who or what you all really mean to us. No biological hazard so far, but with some of you able to pass, there is a risk of infiltration. The Humans who come over are pure nightmare fuel though, so get picked up as much for their own safety. Some of the first few got killed as scary monsters."

"Are there any here?"

"Oh yeah. As far as I know, everyone gets sent here. Been about a thousand of all types here so far."

"Will this be permanent?"

"We really don't have any idea. This only started with the opening of the movie, as far as we can tell. So we haven't had time to really figure that out."

After some more odds and ends, he was cleared and assigned a barracks. An escort led him over; the 'subjects' were cerfewed at night to the buildings.

"You'll get the open bay for now, common barracks style, but as we get them done, we're getting folks into individual apartments for more privacy. Don't want this to be any more oppressive than it has to be." The wolf who escorted him was head and shoulders taller and likely double his weight. As he regarded the creature, he thought he finally caught on about gender.

"As I'm still really new to all this, my nose just told me you're a female?"

She laughed. "Yeah. The humans are having the hardest time with that, so used to visual clues. We can tell visually too, its just a lot more subtle, though in something other than uniforms and a touch of cosmetics, it gets easier."

Then they were at the barracks and she bade him good night and good luck. As he got to the top of the stairs, he looked out over the complex. He really didn't know what to expect, but knew that one didn't build permanent structures for a temporary problem. Maybe the age reduction wasn't a blessing after all.


	2. The Bump

Dale was on her 'phone, talking to Bobby about the new mall thing when it happened.

Everything seemed to lurch and the cell 'phone lost connection. An earthquake? Not in Illinois, unless it was one of those fraking things? But there wasn't any fracking going on here, was there? And why was Max freaking out downstairs?

Dale got up and headed down stairs. Max, her goofy German Shepard, sounded frantic, and what was that? A voice?

"Hey, is someone down there?"

"Help!" A high thin voice, not a kid's, but ?

Someone in the house? She cautiously came down the stairs to the living room. And there was a small someone hiding behind the laziboy, with Max frantically trying to get at him. Someone small kid size, in a costume, maybe? One of those 'furries' she heard about. Animal costumed freaks and geeks.

And Max was in a frenzy to try to get at him.

"Come here you crazy." She grabbed him by the collar to pull him back, he was really hyper about the intruder, but he'd always been a bit protective, and having an uninvited stranger in the house was sure to set him off.

She could tell that the kid was absolutely terrified and she called out. "What are you doing in here?"

"I don't know!" The kid sobbed, clearly terrified.

"Okay, don't try any funny business and I'll get Max out of the way."

"Yes, you've done your job, now chill out in back." She got him out the back door, though he was still very anxious about the stranger.

She went back into the living room, where the little stranger was still hiding.

"You okay back there?"

Up until that moment, she figured he was just some kid in a costume, maybe a really good costume. She liked all kinds of sci-fi and action movies, so was keen on special effects and costumes. But when he rose, he was maybe four foot; she realized that it was not a costume. Or at least nothing she'd ever seen before.

He had a doggy-wolfy like head, proportionally bigger ears though, and odd proportions to the body and limbs. He looked like he could as easily go on all fours as stand up right. That was not a human body as she understood such. He wore work overalls, though had bare feet, looking very doggish.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I am Tommy, Tommy Ballard. What are you?" The voice was thin and high and oddly cadenced, but intelligible.

"I'm a human. Ya know, from Earth." Maybe he's an alien?

"Don't know 'human'," He garbled the apparently unfamiliar word, "But I am of 'Earth' as well."

Dale looked around; of course they didn't have a globe. Or an atlas, but they did have the Internet. "Wait right there."

She got her laptop and opened it up then pulled up a world map and held the unit out to him. He seemed to understand the device, but in looking at the map, shook his head. "Not my Earth."

Dale puzzled. Maybe she could get a better idea as to what he was, and did a search for canids. There came up a screen full of thumbnail images of various things, mostly wolves and dogs. She showed him the display and demonstrated the open image function. Clearly he was familiar with computers, needing only to have the particulars of the format pointed out.

He went though a few then pointed at a coyote. The same kind of ears and somewhat pointy face, compared to a wolf. But not just a coyote in a pair of overalls. He was a person, sort of. He had paws that functioned more like proper hands, his head, well, his skull, she guessed, was fuller and his eyes were closer and larger than the animal. His body was also more wide than deep, more like a human's rather than a canine's.

She suddenly thought of that movie, the one with the animals. Zootopia. She called it up, well not the movie, it wasn't available, but there were the trailers and some sample scenes. She showed them to him.

He was stunned. He could tell it was just computer graphic cartoons, but was speechless for some minutes as several clips and samples played.

"Triumph City" He breathed. "Not really, no different climates, but still, it is like Triumph city. Now can this be?"

"So, you came from some kind of animal world? A parallel universe of something?"

"I don't know about anything like that. And this movie has some differences, the range of sizes, not so big or small, not like those little things." He pointed at the tiny mouse characters, then rubbed his face. "But the idea of a city of all species."

"How did you get here?"

"I do not know."

"I wonder." She typed in a search for 'Triumph City'. With little surprise she found any number of references to motor cycles. After plowing through innumerable variations of that, she found a Zootopia fan fiction reference. She tried to open up that and got an empty document. Odd. And there were some additional Triumph City references and links that also ended up being empty documents. Clearly there was some kind of something going on, but nothing she could get to.

"Shoot. Not luck there." She looked at Tommy again. "So. Where and what were you doing? Then pop?"

"Yeah. I'm a carpenter, house framing mostly. I was on a rooftop. New development out of New Maple. I was getting ready to nail down a sheet of ply. Kneeling down, and then I was on the floor here."

He glanced to the sound of Max still fussing in the back yard. "Then that thing tried to attack me." He shuddered at the memory, his face and ears back in a very doggy expression.

"Oh. Max would be a wild cousin of you here like you saw."

"Yes. Of course. But what are you? I am like your world's coyote, but there is nothing like you in our world."

"Good question." And Dale again went to her laptop to pull up images of apes and monkeys. "We are sort of evolved along with the branch of animals that also make of these."

Tommy puzzled over the images and scrolled through more. "No. We have nothing like this. Oh, wait." And he pointed out a ring-tailed lemur. "We do have these folks, or at least folks who look similar."

After poking around the Internet fro a little while, Dale regarded Tommy. "Say, how old are you?"

He shrugged. "Forty two." He cocked his head in a very canine fashion as he considered Dale in return. "And you?"

"Just sixteen."

Tommy was shocked, or certainly that was her interpretation. "You've been a mother already?"

"What? No." She was shocked and confused.

"Oh?" And he pointed at the girl's breasts.

"What do you mean by that?" Dale was somewhat proud of her perky 'B' cup shape.

The Coyote coked his head again, clearly trying to figure things out. "But you don't smell like you've been a mother? And you are not expressing?"

Dale puzzled over that for a moment longer, then the light dawned. "You mean my breasts? We all have them all the time, though they can get bigger when we're nursing."

"Oh." And he then shrugged. "And your hair? Just on your head?"

"Pretty much." She wasn't going to mention pubes and pits. And then referred back to her computer. "Here are some of the types and styles that people come in." And she pulled up images of people from around the world and handed the unit off to Tommy again for him to browse.

"All those sizes and colors. And those are males?" He pointed at some beefcake.

"Yeah." And she blushed just a bit. Tommy was polite enough not to react to that and other things he noticed. He'd been young once as well.

"How big, how tall can you get?"

"I'm about as tall as I'm going to get." Dale sighed. She was five-three, and as her mother was only four-eleven, she didn't have much hope of a late grown spurt. "I'm about short average, but some people are commonly this tall." And she reached as high as she could over her head. Then pointing at the upper doorsill to the next room, "There is the occasional giant who is that high."

"And you are all the one specie? And no other?"

"The only intelligent, well, only species that does the civilization thing. There are various animals who have some level of intelligence and emotion as we understand it, but, no we're the only ones like you or me."

Tommy sat back to consider all that, as did Dale in her own way. Parallel universes were now a common theme in various sci-fi movies and TV, but that she'd be facing the refugee from a quasi-Zootopia world was a bit much.

"Do you want to chance something to eat or drink?"

Tommy had to think a moment. "Water would be safe for now, and thank you."

She ushered him to the kitchen, where he looked in awe at the features.

"Other than details and some scale, it's very much like home."

She showed him the contents of the pantry and refrigerator. He was amused by all the similarities in packaging. The text was unfamiliar, but only just. Then he saw the package of bacon and recoiled from it.

"Is that Meat?"

Dale could guess his discomfort. "Yes. We eat some animals, unintelligent animals." She reluctantly admitted.

He rushed out of the room with a whine. She followed him back to the living room.

"Tommy? Are you okay?"

"Eaters. You're eaters." He sadly whined, hugging himself.

"There are those who don't eat meat and say we all shouldn't, but, it still a thing." Dale had not really thought too much about vegetarianism. She knew a few, and though she sympathized with the concept, they tended to be self-righteous snobs, not the sort of thing she wanted to be a part of. Besides she still liked her burgers and bacon.

She stood off to the side while the poor sad coyote paced the floor in agitation.

Then there was a knock on the door.

"Stay right there!" Dale warned. Any word of this getting out would likely go media crazy. And more ominously, alien autopsy like outcome for the poor Coyote. She warily peeked out a window and recoiled at what she saw. Honest to goodness MIBs.

"Ohmygod! Tommy! I don't know how, but it looks like some kind of government men are here! They gotta be looking for you!"

Tommy gave her a puzzled look. "Government? Shouldn't I submit?" He gestured at himself. "I don't belong here. Don't have anywhere I can go." He sighed. "Perhaps they can even help?"

Dale chewed her lip in conflict. She'd seen some old 'X-File' episodes and any number of alien visitors to Earth gone bad movies and couldn't help fear for him. But?

"I'll get the door."

And there they were. Two tall rather bland looking men, in charcoal grey rather than black suits standing just off from the door. And two more on the sidewalk by the driveway. And two more on the end of the block.

"Can I help you?" Dale peeked from behind the only half opened door.

"Hello, Ma'am. We were wondering if you happened to have an unusual visitor here with you today?" One spoke.

"I guess you already know that. And yes." But Dale made no move to open the door further. "You're not going to alien autopsy him or anything are you?"

Both of the MIBs grimaced just a bit at that. "Would you believe us if we said no?"

Dale cringed a bit, then opened the door with a hint of a sob.

"Thank you Ma'am. And you are?"

"Dale Tackleford."

"Thank you."

As they entered the house they caught sight of Tommy and without missing a beat. "Hello, sir. We are here to assist you in your time here."

Tommy cocked his head. "There have been others?"

The two MIBs shrugged. Then one asked. "Where did you first appear?"

Tommy and Dale exchanged looks. These agents sounded like they'd done this before. Tommy pointed to the middle of the living room.

One of the agents pulls out his smart 'phone takes a series of snaps of the room.

"Have you mentioned him to anyone?"

"No."

"Good. It's better if you don't."

"But if he isn't the first, then why are you keeping him secret?"

The two agents glanced at each other. Then one turned to her. "Did you ever see the movie "Men in Black'? Seeing her nod, "Do you remember the speech Agent K said about the public finding out? That everyone would freak out? Same kind of thing, but instead of aliens, it's a leaky parallel universe. That's why it's so similar. Don't know how long individuals have been crossing, but ideas, the collective minds on both sides seem to be picking up on each other for the longest time."

The other agent continued. "So, for now, we're keeping things quiet. And hope you realize the importance of all this?"

Dale shrugged, still not sure how to react.

"We'll be monitoring you to make sure." There was something in the agent's tone, less of menace than sympathy for her circumstance.

Tommy piped up. "Can you get me home?"

The two agents exchanged shrugs. "We're just here to collect. Don't really know what's next."

Dale suspected that they knew more than they were saying, but she was still too surprised and intimidated to pursue anything.

Then it was time for Tommy to go.

"Hope you can get home." Then Dale glanced at the agents. "Or at least they take good care of you."

The poor little Coyote could only shrug, sadly resigned to his unknown fate.

And then they were gone.

Dale plopped down on the living room couch, her mind reeling over all that had just happened. As much as she wanted, perhaps even needed to tell someone, the whole MIB experience left her fearful. Then as she settled a bit, the notion of a whole parallel universe, a Zootopia-esque world of animals became her focus.

Then she remembered Max and let him back in the house. After a quick romp around to sniff the hints of all the scary strangers, he nuzzled his girl for mutual reassurance.

"Yeah, goofy Dog. Too weird." As she hugged the big fuzzy. "How'd you want to go to animal world?"

Max gave her a sloppy lick.


	3. We get to meet Nick and Judy !

**My take on the author meeting our heroes without the awful Mary Sue character becoming the BFF or more**

"Sweet and sour?" The old silvered Coyote asked his merely age-greyed Brother.

"Yeah." And the younger Coyote got up a bit stiffly.

They were pretty much retired old dogs, the elder one a recent widower, the younger one divorced long ago, then looked after their Mother for many years until her death. Now they shared a small house in the 118 neighborhood. Mostly working class, but with an unfairly negative reputation for where foreigners and minority mammals were opted into.

True, there were more different species and nationalities in that one small district than in the rest of Zootopia combined, but that variety also created a positive synergy that had eluded the neighboring and tragically named Happy Town.

"Sweet and sour." Meant a trip to King Donut*, a little donut shop, self-serve Laundromat, and vaguely Asian take out kitchen. The sweet and sour chicken was rather generic, but pleasantly so, and a single serving was an economical belly full for the two of them. And for coyotes, the chicken part was real bird flesh.

Meat, even the most indirect or camouflaged versions, like bug burgers, could be problematic around most folk, being grinders. However there were sources for those who wanted or needed such. Ironically, one of the pair's favorite restaurants, Teapot**, was actually vegan, but the preparations were so well prepared that there was no telling that the meals were both completely meatless and covered their dietary needs.

The trip today was in the old beater pick up truck, as the battery could use a little perk up. Younger Brother lit a sad little paw-rolled cigarette, hanging it out the window as the older Brother drove. As they often did, they started 'singing' an ill-tuned rendition of an old pop tune, with increasingly altered lyrics as they went through the verses, finally degenerating into streams of silly monosyllables.

Then, there was King Donut, and of course, elder Brother made a point of announcing it as 'dough naught'. But as he was paying more attention to his announcement than the left turn he needed to arrive, he found himself missing the turn lane.

"Poop! I missed it." And seeing there was no immediate traffic around him, pulled a quick and tidy U-turn. This was, of course, immediately followed by flashing lights from up the block. "Argh. Caught, caught I say, for my heinous criminal deed." Then, melodramatics over, sighed. He was a good driver and knew that his maneuver was technically in violation, so wasn't about to debate it, but it was also a bit petty, especially as there had not been any other traffic threatened by it.

"I'll remember you when you're gone, faux lamented Younger Brother.

"Hacksaw blade in my birthday cake?" In return.

"Are you kidding? Getting the house all to myself for the years you'll be locked up." Said gleefully.

"But you'll have to pay the bills and stuff."

"Oh. Never mind." In tragic deflation.

As he pulled out his paperwork, Older Brother glanced in his rear view to see, "Oh double poop. It's that Rabbit!"

That Rabbit was the famous Judy Hopps, of course. Older Brother remembered all too well those infamous words and the hardships of the savage times. However, he also knew that the poor Bunny had spoke in ignorance rather than malice and had been played by that Damned Ewe. That she later exposed the Bellwether plot did help a bit, but some damage was taking longer to heal.

As for traffic stops and cops, he was always cool. He made a mistake; they were just doing their job, so nothing to get up about. Though there had been times, especially in his youth that DWP, 'diving while pred', especially as a coyote, was a very different matter.

"Hello sir. Are you aware of the no left turn section of the street there?" The little officer was being neutrally polite, perhaps just a bit bored with such a minor infraction.

"I'm afraid so, Ma'am. Just a momentary lapse in judgment." Older Brother looked a bit contrite, but was more embarrassed for the dumb move. He glanced over to Younger Brother, who was barely containing his glee at meeting the Famous Bunny, and maybe enjoying his Bother's distress a little too. Older Brother had some small experience with being around celebrities and such, so was simply dealing with her as a cop.

While Hopps was looking over his documents, Older Brother noticed the second officer approaching, the Fox, Wilde. "Hey, Baby Brother, the Famous Fox is coming."

"Oboy!" And Younger Brother wiggled in excitement, but not so much as to be construed as being threatening. He was clearly enjoying himself way too much.

When Wilde got up to the truck and took a good look at Older Brother, his cool cop demeanor changed to cheerful enthusiasm. "Hey, Officer Hopps, we have a famous artist here! He was one of the early skinny cartoonists."

"Skinny?" Hopps didn't know and Older Brother cringed just a bit, while Younger Brother beamed.

"Yeah, you know. Those cartoon fans all up with the weird furless characters. He was one of the creators."

Older Brother made a face. "Well, just one of the early content providers to the current fad. Hardly a 'creator'."

Hopps looked a bit perplexed at her partner, "How do you know any of that?"

Wilde snorted, "Like I keep saying, I know everyone. And in this case, I was into comics, especially indies and undergrounds back in the day. Not his directly, but knew of him."

Older Brother pouted theatrically, such fleeting fame, and then shrugged it off. "I was just a small press independent comic book artist and self-publisher starting back in the eighties, and in decline since." Said to Hopps in explanation. "My comics were pretty obscure even back in the best of times and I haven't done anything new in more than a octade."

He grimaced just a tad with that. It was his Mate's cancer that had sidetracked him into full time attention to her, and with her death, he'd never gotten back to it or much of anything else.

Hopps was mildly impressed, but she had the process to grind through. Younger Brother was still having fun with the celebrity cops. "Never thought I'd ever see you guys. 'Specially not in this circumstance." And he gave Older Brother a bit of an elbow nudge. "See, they aren't going to use the big sticks on you." Then back to Wilde, "You aren't, are you?"

Wilde laughed at the ill-concealed glee at the unlikely prospect. "Naw, we save the batons for jaywalkers nowadays."

"Oh poo. At least we'll be getting your autographs on the ticket."

Hopps had come back just in time to hear that. "Sorry folks, but we were thinking of just giving you a warning for that maneuver."

"Thanks Ma'am." Older Brother was grateful for not getting a ticket, but couldn't help but think about how she'd probably done a rather thorough check on him. You know, can't tell about those coyotes.

Younger Brother was dramatically crestfallen, "You sure you didn't find anything, over due book?" until Wilde passed a signed business card to him. "EEE! My first material possession!" And he clutched it to his chest with a blissful expression.

Hopps and Wilde exchanged confused looks.

"He's been binge-watching Renn and Stimpy episodes."

Wilde nodded in understanding.

"Okay, enough of the fooling around, Officer Wilde." Hopps announced rather officiously. "We have more nefarious traffic violators to nab." Then, with a wink, "And maybe a jaywalker or two for some baton practice."

Wilde recoiled in shock at that. "I'd never!"

Everyone exchanged a smile and then the encounter was over.

Later, as Older Brothers were getting the last of the florescent orange sauce and rice out of the take-away carton. "So, how was your big day?"

"I thought Hopps was cute."

"All bunnies are cute."

"No, I mean, cute, ya know."

"Yeah."

*It is a real place, but changed ownership by the time I got around to writing this, and the Asian menu has changed, so no more florescent orange goop covered fried chicken on a big bed of rice.

**A wonderful Asian fusion place, though only the one location over on the east side now. Also mentioned in 'Looking for Love'.


End file.
